


Inktober 2017: CDB Edition

by littlechinesedoll



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drabbles, Fluff, Inktober 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: Originally posted over at cumdumpsterbrucie.tumblr.com. Collection of unrelated superbat drabbles for Inktober.1. Searching 2. Barefoot 3. Warmth 4. Compliment 5. FallenAbandoned. Couldn't finish Inktober cos I had a fuck-up at work.





	1. Searching

“Has your search been fruitful, Master Bruce?” asks Alfred as he tries his best to ignore how Bruce has trashed the master bedroom looking for something he should never lose.

He sets the tray down on the surface of the dresser. It contained a water bottle and a plate with a few crackers. Bruce hasn’t eaten since he started his search this morning.

“No,” Bruce answers, rummaging through the briefcase he used the day before, hoping that if he looked through it several times enough, it would appear to him.

“Sir,” says Alfred as he approaches Bruce, “It is well past noon, two thirty-three to be precise, and you’ve not had breakfast or a single glass of water since you started to flip this bedroom upside down. It would be best for you to eat something, then resume your search afterward,”

“My marriage is more important than food!”

Alfred sighs. “There will be no two married people if one of falls ill and dies of starvation,” that might have been to over the top, but he wanted to get his point across.

Bruce stops throwing his documents all over the place. He sits on the floor, surrounded by documents, clothes, and even the sheets of the bed, with slumped shoulders looking hopeless. He wordlessly puts the documents back into the briefcase.

“I can’t find it,” he says after the audible click of the briefcase as he closed it shit. “It was thirty bucks, but it was so important to him—I don’t think I can face him, Alfred,”

Alfred helps him up and hands him the bottle of water. “Let’s put something in your stomach before we start looking again, alright?”

Bruce absently nods and sits down on a chaise. Alfred retrieves the crackers and places it next to Bruce on the chaise before cleaning up the room. He tries to eat the crackers but only manages to eat two, but downs about a fourth of the bottle. He gets to his feet to help Alfred clean up. When everything’s back in their place and the bed is made, Bruce lies down and doesn’t say another word to Alfred, who leaves quietly.

His wedding ring. He lost his wedding ring.

\--

Clark feels like he’s on air when he gets home even though it’s past ten. The kids are already in bed, but he’s going to make it up to them tomorrow. Tomorrow’s a Saturday, so he’ll be at home with them all day. He rushes past the household help who opens the gates and doors for him, and up the stairs. He has a present for Bruce.

“Bruce!” he says excitedly as he enters the room, but his energy is drained away when he sees Bruce’s face.

Bruce feels like shit. He hasn’t eaten and he has a headache. His stomach is empty but he feels like throwing up. He doesn’t want to know what Clark will say, but he has to be honest with him. “Clark,”

Clark drops his briefcase and is instantly beside him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Bruce won’t look at him, so he cups his face and tries to meet his eyes.

“Clark,” Bruce says again, this time, his voice is as shaky as his hands. “Clark, I lost my ring,” he says. “I can’t find it, I’m sorry,” it meant so much to Clark. “I know I put it on the nightstand. I took it off when I washed Jason’s soiled clothes last night but I know I put it back on but I just can’t find it. I’ve been looking for it all day—I’m so sorry,”

It was a cheap, rose gold, stainless steel ring. It looked like it was made of actual gold and Clark gave it to him out of nowhere. He’d been fairly new to the Daily Planet, with never enough money to get himself a new laptop or a phone, and decided to buy himself and Bruce a pair of wedding bands for sixty bucks, and on a whim, secretly got married one morning at the city hall. Bruce could’ve easily bought them new rings, but didn’t. Clark scraped the bottom of the barrel for those rings. Why would he replace them?

But Clark smiles and kisses Bruce’s forehead. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box and doesn’t hesitate to open it. “You lost your ring because I wanted to surprise you with new ones,” he said shyly, “I took yours hoping you wouldn’t notice because I wanted to make sure I was getting you the right size,” he takes one of the white gold rings, and puts it on Bruce’s left ring finger. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come home sooner. Been searching for the rings all day, too,”

It’s beautiful, Bruce thinks, but the words are stuck in his throat, so he pulls Clark to him for a kiss. “It’s perfect,” Bruce breathes when they part. “Thank you,”  

“I’m glad you like it, Bruce,” Clark pulls him into an embrace. He thinks Bruce might need the comfort after what he’d been through today.

Bruce knows, with Clark’s salary, that it took him a while to save up for these rings. Everything Bruce owns is Clark’s and he understands that, but Clark just wants to give Bruce something that is entirely his own, from the fruit of the work of his own two hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the rings look like:
> 
> the one bruce “lost” 
> 
>  
> 
> <https://www.justmensrings.com/Stainless-Steel-Rose-Gold-Polished-Finish-Wedding-Band_p_335.html>
> 
>  
> 
> and the one clark bought at the end 
> 
>  
> 
> [https://www.bluenile.com/satin-finish-wedding-ring-black-titanium-14k-white-gold_62162?elem=title&track=product](https://www.bluenile.com/satin-finish-wedding-ring-black-titanium-14k-white-gold_62162?elem=title&track=product)


	2. Barefoot

There’s something about Bruce’s feet.

Clark watches Bruce as he pads around the bedroom barefoot. It’s not always he sees Bruce walking around without his slippers. Clark is lying on their bed with the lampshade on and with a book to help him doze off, but Bruce is distracting him from the book.

He’s always known Bruce had small feet. But he never really paid attention to it. He sets the book down and keeps his eyes on Bruce, who’s walking to and from the closet to the duffel bag on the coffee table on the other side of the room. He’ll be going to Vancouver for a few days for business. The bag is for show, but it’s a piece of a normal life they try to keep.

“Have you ever had a foot spa before?” Clark asks out of nowhere.

Bruce places a crisp, pressed dress shirt into the duffel bag. “Yes. I’d rather it not scrub the callouses off though. I enjoyed it. It came with a pleasant foot massage,”

“I see,” replies Clark thoughtfully.

“Why?”

“No reason,” he says, “I was about to ask if you wanted a foot massage,”

Bruce grins, drops the clothes into the bag, and climbs into bed with Clark. “Oh, definitely. How much do you charge for extra services?” he says as he snuggles into Clark.

Clark grins back. “No charge at all,”  


	3. Warmth

Bruce can’t sleep.

He’s been in bed, tossing and turning for the better part of the hour, but he can’t seem to fall asleep. Normally he’d already be knocked out with how tired he always is. It pisses him off.

When Clark gets home after his last sweep of the world, it’s late. He knows it’s late because when he enters Bruce’s bedroom through the unlocked terrace doors, Bruce is already asleep. Or at least he’s trying to, or pretending to be.  

Clark slips out of his uniform and crawls into the sheets, which Bruce had wrapped around himself, turning into a ball on top of the bed.

“What the hell took you so long?” Bruce frowns as he scoots over to Clark to throw an arm over his lover’s torso.

Clark chuckles. “I’m sorry,” he kisses Bruce’s temple and pulls the comforter over them as they try to settle into the covers.

Bruce will never admit it, but he’s gotten used to sleeping with Clark by his side that he finds it difficult to sleep when they’re not together. There’s something about Clark’s warmth that comforts him, lulls him to sleep, and makes him feel safe.

“Good night, Bruce,” says Clark.

“Night…” Bruce replies absently, falling asleep almost immediately in the safe warmth of Clark’s arms.


	4. Compliment

Hal can’t believe he fell for it. Clark’s going to throw him into the sun.

Besides, there’s a hundred bucks in it for him. That could get him a new microwave. He needs one. And there’s even a catch. If he manages not to get punched in the face or kicked in the balls, there’s an extra hundred bucks. That’s two hundred bucks at stake. The other hundred bucks could actually get food into his cupboard.

Bruce is talking with J’onn about something Hal doesn’t listen to. It’s probably something about civilian life, since of course, they were at a dinner party at Wayne Manor, and it’s good not to talk about business all the damn time.

“Hey, Bruce,” says Hal as he approaches the master of the house, who’s having a good time with a glass of champagne in hand. He glances behind him at Victor and Wally snickering by the outdoor bar, holding glasses of mixed alcohols. They raise their glass at him. _fuck my life_.

“Hal,” Bruce gives Hal a genuine smile. That kind of gives Hal the shivers. “I hope you’re having fun,” he says, “The pool’s for everybody’s use. It’s been dechlorinated for the night so Arthur can use it,”

As soon as Bruce says the pool can be used, Arthur jumps in, and behind him, Diana, and Clark.

“Nice ass,” it comes tumbling out of his mouth like he’s picking up a hoe near a dingy bar.

Bruce raises an unimpressed brow. “Excuse me?”

“Harold, that’s terribly inappropriate,” frowns J’onn.

“I know, but—”

“I should punch you in the face,” says Bruce.

“Please don’t,” Hal’s shoulder slumps. “I really need a new microwave,”

Bruce notices Wally and Victor snickering by the bar. “Hold my champagne,” he hands J’onn the glass, then, without missing a beat, throws Hal over his head and into the pool.

Victor and Wally share laughing fit with a high five while Barry rushes over to the poolside. 

“What’s going on?” Dick calls from the terrace. “Did I miss anything?”

Hal surfaces.

“How much did you win?” Bruce smirks and takes the champagne glass back from J’onn.

“Two hundred dollars,” grins Hal.

“Mhmm, and how much did the phone in your pocket cost?” asks Bruce.

The grin falls off Hal’s face. “Mother _fucker_ ,”


	5. Fallen

Being out there doing what they do with their alternate lives is what’s normal for Clark. He’d like to wish for a civilian life, but that would mean he might never get to meet Bruce. after all, Bruce is modern royalty, and he’s well, the equivalent modern commoner.

Clark’s used to seeing Bruce do incredible things. Bruce is an escape artist, a master at martial arts, and a tactical genius; he’s a businessman, a philanthropist, a public figure, a socialite, a celebrity; and best of all, Bruce is a man, his lover, and a dad. One of his most favorite things in the world is seeing Bruce be a dad.

After a quick gargle and a splash of water on his face, Clark, in some pajama bottoms and a white shirt, makes his way down to the kitchen and sees the children on the other half of the wide counter, perched on stools and stuffing their faces with an amazing breakfast spread.

Clark watches Bruce put down another stack of pancakes in the middle of the children, who all take a piece. The other half of the counter is messy with bowls used for the pancake batter, a pack of bacon opened, cracked eggshells, and cartons of milk.

“Clark,” Bruce smiles, warmly welcoming Clark to their breakfast nook. “Come, have breakfast. Alfred is on his day off, so you’ll be stuck with my amateur cooking I’m afraid,”

If there’s anything Bruce can cook, it’s breakfast.

Clark smiles back as he enters the kitchen. “Good morning,” he greets, giving Bruce a quick kiss to which the children snicker to.

“Get a room,” Jason jokes, and Dick elbows him.

“We did last night,” Bruce says honestly which gets a disgusted noise from all three boys.

“Yuck,” says Tim with scrunched nose.

“Alright, alright, eat so you can go play outside or take a swim,” says Bruce, “Your music teacher will be here soon—slow down,” he says when the boys start to scarf down the food. “You’re not allowed to swim with full stomachs,”

Clark joins the children and serves himself a plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs, but not after helping Bruce clear up the other half of the counter so they have space. They both sit down and have breakfast, and the children excuse themselves to freshen up.

“Stay only in the wading area!” Bruce calls after them.

“I’ll look after them,” says Clark. “You have to turn up at work after lunch, right?”

“I was thinking staying in, but since you offered, thank you,”

They clear the counter, and while Bruce is washing the dishes, Clark hugs him from behind and kisses his shoulder. “What about second breakfast?”

Bruce chuckles. “Still in the mood?” he asks, “Did you have a good flight and recharge last night?”

“It’s not because of the recharge, though,”

Bruce hums as he rinses the last plate, then dries his hands.

Whenever he sees Bruce do mundane things, like be a dad, it makes him feel like he’s fallen in love with him all over again. There’s a warmth in this chest, the feeling of wanting to scream it to the world, or bring Bruce on a flight over his favorite places on earth.

“I think,” Clark whispers against Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s because I love you,”

Bruce leans more into Clark. “That’s the best reason to be in the mood,”  


End file.
